


Make New Friends

by lilyhandmaiden



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 21:00:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2746871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyhandmaiden/pseuds/lilyhandmaiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz has a problem, and the only solution is a non-imaginary tall person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make New Friends

**Author's Note:**

> From an anonymous Tumblr prompt for some Fitz and Mack BrOTP fic. Takes place around the time of "Making Friends and Influencing People."

"Did you tell them not to put things up so high?" Simmons asked, her head tilted back to take in the top shelf of the new, redesigned Bus lab's supply closet.

Fitz crossed his arms and looked up, too. "I tried. I think they thought I was just-- just-- I was only--"

"Shouting?"

"Yeah. Nonsense. Just, you know, talking..."

"To yourself?"

"Exactly."

"Arseholes."

"Yeah."

Since he couldn't think of anything else to do, he continued to stand there. The fact of the matter was that he needed the tools which the idiot new people in the Playground lab had put on the very top shelf in order to proceed with the work he was trying to do, and he was not able to reach that shelf. He'd already tried jumping for them. It had not gone well. Fitz was well aware that he was not a very tall person; it was a bit of a sore point with him, which was why it seemed like the new people had done this on purpose as some sort of prank, even though he knew that it was more likely they just hadn't thought about him at all-- that he was a nonentity in this lab, which had once been his, as far as they were concerned. He wasn't sure which was worse.

Usually when he felt like this, Simmons would help, but she couldn't do much in this case because she was even shorter than he was, and besides that, was not exactly present in an actual, corporeal sense. He didn't want to think about what might happen if she tried to pick the tools up, even if she could reach them. Possibly his brain would short circuit and she'd disappear. Or he'd end up working with imaginary tools, and wouldn't the idiots have a field day with that.

"When we had our own lab," Fitz said, "we could avoid this."

"I know." They stood there longer. After a while, Simmons said, "You know, Mack is very tall."

"Nope. No. For-- forget it, I'm not asking-- I'm not going to ask him."

A voice which was definitely not Simmons's said, "Ask who what?" Mack was standing in the doorway. "Dude, I hope this isn't an uncomfortable question, but why are you in the closet?"

"Oh, I just-- I was just-- some, um-- I was  _getting_ su-- some-- some stuff."

"Oh. Well, you've been in here kind of a while." Mack smiled. "People might think you're up to something."

"Well, if I were, they'd never, uh, suspect-- suspect a... a thing."

"Probably right." And then, without ceremony, Mack reached over and picked up the tool kit from the top shelf-- and Fitz would swear it  _was_ over, not  _up._ He was that massive. "You need this?"

"Oh. Um. Yeah."

" _Thank him!_ " hissed Simmons at his side.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Come on, finish this thing so we can beat Koenig to the X-Box tonight."

"Not likely."

"Hey, you think of the stuff, I reach the stuff, we can do it. Think positive."

To his own surprise, Fitz was just then having a positive thought: It was nice to have a friend who would never put things on high shelves, who would collaborate with you to build a lab without them. But it was also nice, he was discovering, to have a friend who was very tall.


End file.
